


Devil

by howies



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Gen, Hockey, Implied Violence, Jimmys a part time NHL goalie, Jonathan Quick is mentioned (neighbour), NHL, One Shot, part time anatomy professor, part time serial killer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-20
Updated: 2014-01-20
Packaged: 2018-01-09 09:46:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1144507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howies/pseuds/howies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[I have this weird fantasy thanks to Tumblr friends of Jimmy Howard as a part NHL goalie, part time Anatomy Professor and part secret serial killer]</p><p>So this is my attempt at a "Psycho Jimmy" one shot. Where he's basically taking care of 'business'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Devil

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry I have a weird thing for villains.

“Even the Devil sees himself the Hero in his story…”

 

“NO! GOD NO, PLEASE NO-“ The door practically flew off the wall with a loud bang, the light from the hall way creeping in the room followed by a horrendous maniacal laughter, barely audible over the screams and pleas of mercy from the full grown man crawling across the floor. “Something about the look in your eyes Jackie boy tells me, your lips have been flapping in the wind of the locker room...” A tall figure entered the room, following the now whimpering man on the curled up on the floor. He snickered down at the man, a large gun was tucked into the front of his jeans, and swinging a large knife around is index finger. He had this unnerving aroma of calmness around him, if he hadn’t been brandishing a 10inch long knife; his calmness in the situation was the most terrifying aspect of him. He leaned against the door frame, smiling to the ground swinging the weapon in slow deep swoops before raising a finger on his other hand up to his lips. “Shhh shh now Jackie boy, it’s my turn to talk now-“ He said darkly, lifting his icy cold eyes to meet the chocolate brown ones in front of him. “Jackie, Jackie, Jackie… I thought I could trust you with my little secret-“ “You c-can Jimmy, plea-“ “Shut up!” Jimmy yelled, a flew locks of his slicked back blonde hair falling in front of his eyes. He inhaled deeply before starting again. “I thought you could keep your lips, zipped.” He said, airing locking his lips then shook his head. “But you couldn’t, my favourite little Czech… Poor Mrzaek is asking questions now. So I have something else to handle later…” He said sighing, running his fingers over his long blade. “Lucky for me, his English is horrid and I’m God to him so it’ll be easy to fix the minimal damage he made… But, I have to make sure this never happens again you understand right, Jackie?” He sighed, shrugging his shoulders as the man screamed and plead to God and anyone listening to save him. To that Jimmy responded with a low snicker stepping all the way in the room pulling the door shut. “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle.”

***

The night was still alive by the time he made his way up the dimly lit stairwell to James Howards one bedroom. He was thankful the night was still young because his adrenaline was still pumping through his veins as his fumbled with his keys and entered his dark home. He was certain he wouldn’t be able to sleep for a while, the thought of which making him cringe as the thought of tomorrows early morning lecture loomed over him. He flicked the hallway light on as he walked down towards the bathroom pulling his blood splattered white t-shirt over his head and tossing it into his room as he headed into the bathroom. He turned the shower on, and turned to the mirror while waiting for the water to warm up. He smirked at his reflection, his usual perfectly sleeked back blonde hair was tussled and hanging over his forehead and icy wild eyes. His neck and arms were speckled with red droplets, his neck and cheeks were covered in stubble, and the tips of his lips were tugged into a seemingly permanent condescending smirk. He rang his fingers through his hair, smirking even bigger before shaking his head and kicking out of his jeans, placing his gun on the back of the toilet and then stepped into the now steaming shower.  
As the warm water washed over the back of his neck and shoulders, he almost hesitated before rinsing the droplets on his arms off. He almost wanted to keep them they were like little trinkets he could wear forever; be a part of him now… So he could always remember the things he'd done. He never wanted to forget the feeling he got from the kill. He gazed down at his arms for a moment, lost in his own thoughts... Starring almost lovingly down at his red hands before snapping out of it, and turned around thrusting his arms under the water, scrubbing them aggressively… Suddenly desperate to have the blood splatter and all memories attached with it gone.  
He breathed heavily as he watched the water run red as it spun slowly down the drain, when it finally all disappeared his breathing returned to normal and turned the water to cool. He closed his eyes and let the cool water run across his face, wiping his eyes letting out a deep sigh. He kept his eyes closed and leaned his head against the wall, trying to keep his focus on his breathing and preparing for his class in the morning. He ran over his lesson plan a few times in his head as he finished up in the shower and toweled off, throwing on a pair of sweatpants and t-shirt and jumped in bed, now forcing sleep to come to him. As he ran over the last final details of his lesson, briefly smirking over the irony of how helpful teaching anatomy was for him tonight, he managed to convince himself that tonight was the last night he’d ever do what he did. The first time, was a mistake… He’d let his anger and defensiveness take over him… The second time –Jack Harrison, one of the locker room workers -who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and saw what happened –was only to make sure his mistake stayed secret… and poor Petr… well he was just a loose end that had to be tied. 

He rolled over, feeling his body sink into the mattress comfortably, encouraging sleep to drape over him. This was the last time he’d ever do this again, they all had to be done, he had no other choice. He yawned feeling himself drifting away to dreamland, just as he felt himself slipping away a small voice in the back of his head whispered.  
“But that Jonathan guy living alone down the hall in 118 has been being awfully cheeky though…”


End file.
